Orations

¹¹ Perchance He will say to me, who am not reformed even by blows, I know that you are obstinate, and your neck is an iron sinew, the heedless is heedless and the lawless man acts lawlessly, naught is the heavenly correction, naught the scourges. The bellows are burnt, the lead is consumed, as I once reproached you by the mouth of Jeremiah, the founder melted the silver in vain, your wickednesses are not melted away. Can ye abide my wrath, says the Lord. Has not My hand the power to inflict upon you other plagues also?

There are still at My command the blains breaking forth from the ashes of the furnace, by sprinkling which toward heaven, Moses, or any other minister of God's action, may chastise Egypt with disease. There remain also the locusts, the darkness that may be felt, and the plague which, last in order, was first in suffering and power, the destruction and death of the firstborn, and, to escape this, and to turn aside the destroyer, it were better to sprinkle the doorposts of our mind, contemplation and action, with the great and saving token, with the blood of the new covenant, by being crucified and dying with Christ, that we may both rise and be glorified and reign with Him both now and at His final appearing, and not be broken and crushed, and made to lament, when the grievous destroyer smites us all too late in this life of darkness, and destroys our firstborn, the offspring and results of our life which we had dedicated to God.